


new person, same old mistakes

by whyiotto



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Hargreeves Lives, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Child Abuse, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Good Sibling Luther Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Luther had another power, M/M, Protective Luther Hargreeves, Sad Luther Hargreeves, Self-Harm, Touch-Starved, also no incest in this, ben isn't gonna be just a quiet bookworm in this, i imagine that klaus had rubbed off on him, i'll be adding as i go on, im living for Klaus in this, luther centric, maybe if you squint but isn't my intention, so make sure to read tags or like trigger warnings, touch-starved Luther Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:09:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyiotto/pseuds/whyiotto
Summary: Set after "The White Violin", they find themselves plunged into the past and back into their thirteen year old bodies. Luther feels like he has to make everything better after he set Vanya off. He doesn't care whether or not he gets hurt, he only wants to make everything better for them. Even if that means having to deal with Reginald, in a way he never has before.or Luther fucks up hardcore and tries to make everything better and ends up getting himself fucked up for like twenty chapters, he really needs a hug too, like super bad
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 32
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, this may be like a little oc. it's gonna be real sad at some parts, not this chapter, but it will. i'll write trigger warnings in the beginning notes if i think things are a little too hardcore. also updates will probably come every week or so.

In a blue tinted, gut-punching haze, Luther fell to the floor surrounded by his siblings. The glitching scene, flickering through time, had finally stopped changing. It left them all in the middle of a slightly constructed building in clothes way too big for them.

As he looked around, he could tell Five had managed to get them out safe -- safe being a relative term seeing that they could be found and captured at any moment --, somewhere being better than where they were seconds before. No longer were they trapped by deadly assassins and the world caving in around them as they reached for any possible solution. They found themselves on the dusty cement floor able to see the whole expanse of the building through wooden beams, lining up and down the ceiling.

Luther quickly found his sibling’s faces meeting them with wide eyes and slightly open mouths, they did the same.

“Are you kidding me? It actually worked.” Klaus said, being the first to speak, as he went to get up. “Do you hear that, Bennie? Back to the good old days.”

Luther couldn’t help flinch at the harsh sarcasm that basically shoved it’s way out of Klaus’ mouth. It was hard to think that he was the only one who missed them all being together like they had been decades ago. Working as a team, living mission to mission, wasn’t everyone’s dream and life long plan as much as he had wanted it to be, then and now.

Klaus pushed himself off of the ground, still hand in hand with Ben. Good thing he was for Ben would have fallen in a Klaus like manner, never having the most ample of balance as a kid and Luther guessed that hadn’t changed much, but was held up by a breathing living Ben. Holding him, standing hand in hand, Ben sized Klaus up.

“I’ve definitely forgotten how short and… poofy you were.” Patting his head, Ben ruffled his giant curls that had seemingly shrunk as he grew or stayed the same as his body made them look proportionate? “Aw, you were such a cute kid. What happened?”

“I don’t know… drugs, global warming, the fact that NSYNC broke up, my constant insomnia, homelessness. The list could honestly go on and how dare you? I’m the cutest thing that your grateful little eyes have ever seen.”

The tension was broken by Klaus’ way of making every occasion a nonchalant walk in the park or more awkward than it was in the beginning; this time was not the latter. The rest, who had stayed with clasped hands on the floor, made their way up with the exception of a passed out Five and a still unconscious Vanya. Luther couldn’t help but notice how small and fragile Vanya felt in his arms. Something he had forgotten to realize over the years, how small she was compared to him even as children. 

He happily noted she was still out for the count, knowing that if she woke up, she would immediately freak out. He wasn’t sure how they could stop her damage when the time would come.

“We need to get the Academy.” Allison spoke softly before realizing her voice was back to normal, her childlike state. Looking over to Vanya, she gives Luther a look he doesn't remember ever being pointed at him.

When they were children, it had always felt as if it was Allison and Luther against the world, maybe Luther had been the only one who felt like that, always paired off from the rest. "The one's Dad liked" and the others. Even if it was just Luther vs. the world, which it had been since the ending of his teen years, he always had Allison to fall back on. Never one to be an emotional person, Allison had always let him feel comfortable enough to show off that side of himself. No competition, no fear of being laughed in a mocking way, just fun.

Being Number One took its toll in more ways than one. A lack of childhood was one of them, but he felt as if he couldn't complain much. He liked how he was raised; although, looking back, there were things he wished he could experience and things he wished he hadn’t. 

The rest lived in the same house he had with the same parents and hardships, but they had each other. It felt as if Luther was seen as the "golden child", in the same light of Reginald, and not one of them. Being left behind on late night trips just to hear about the hilarity the next day, by Allison or a gloating Diego, didn't feel the best. He was Number One and he wasn’t made to feel such things, that wasn’t his position. Making sure everything was in order and going right was. 

Now that he was older and could look at it from a different perspective, he saw that he hadn't helped himself. He hadn't made his case any better. Longing for Reginald's praise put him in a bad light with the others and created a wall that might never be brought down.

Just seeing her with a look of disappointment made his heart hurt. Being in her good graces was something he always prided himself in, she has always been his only confidant. Now they were all together and older and changed and different, it was obvious that relationships were going to be altered. Luther never saw they would change. He was wrong.

"L-l-let's head.... Are y-you fu-fu-fucking kidding me? R-really? Sh-shut u-u-up, Klaus, it-it it's not.... funny." Deigo said stopping a couple of times to make sure the words would come out right.

"What? Ben's laughing, too. Wow, you come back from the dead after a decade and you suddenly aren't held accountable for anything."

"Oooh, what a long word, Klaus. I think you deserve a gold star and a cookie." Ben said covering up a laugh.

"Fuck you and I'm sure as hell excpecting both of those things. Mainly the cookie."

"L-let's head home b-before anyone not-t-tices a b-b-bunch of runaways living o-out in a constr-r-ruction site, o-or before D- R-reginald no-notices that we're g-gone. We n-n-need to a-act like no-normal... normal for o-our age - unt-t-til Five w-wakes and tells us w-what-tever the hell we're supposed t-to do with this." Diego gestures to his body as well as the others, focusing his hand in Vanya's direction. His words became more spaced out as he tried to make them come out correctly.

Luther took the lead of exiting the half-built building, it felt right since missions usually started with him in the front, but having Vanya in his arms made him feel on guard. Not used to having her in the way or vicinity of anything bad happening put him on alarm as they walked down the seemingly busy streets. Luther couldn't help, but notice the looks they were getting by passerbyers, the looks of confusion. More than a couple people walking by made remarks of calling the authorities or "someone useful" to help "those poor children".

From an outsider's point of view, seeing a group of children - all tired looking and two passed out on the backs of others -, dressed in clothes way too big for them wandering down main street was highly alarming.

"Need to get new clothes. We're raising too much attention. Before someone calls the cops." He said, pulling them into an alleyway. Forming up a cramped oval-ish circle, they began planning what to do.

"We can't shoplift anything." Luther loudly whispered.

"Why not, Mr. Do Good." Diego retorted back, looking ready to start a storm.

"It will get noticed, obviously. We need to keep a low presence, stealing a bunch of stuff isn't helping us." He could feel himself getting more worked up, causing small tremors. "Klaus, what- what about you? Do you know anywhere to get clothes?"

"Why are you asking me for, Number One." He gave a pointed look, before going straight faced. "What? Just because I didn't live with you for a while, I'm automatically a homeless who goes through the dumpsters at clothing stores to find anything to put on my back because I can't survive without stealing what I need, huh? I dig through donation bins because I can't afford it? I must know where all the good hotspots are?"

"Klaus, can we please not do this now." Allison steps up, saving Luther from having to reply to... all of that. Luther knew whatever he said wouldn't come out sounding like he intended and would only cause more damage.

"If you think that, you would be correct. There's a little store on Oakley that gets the best shit. What? I was only fucking with him, can't mess around anymore, wow, rough crowd. I guess, I'll go fuck myself." Klaus walked off laughing. "Come on, then. Let's get our shop on."  
~  
Navigating through the bends and sketchy side streets and alleyways, Luther felt very on guard, just waiting until one of the goggled clad assassins came to bite them in the ass. No matter what he pointed out to Klaus, he was pushed away with "we're not even on the skevvy sides of town". The rest just walked along following Klaus, pointing out something of nostalgia every so often. Besides this, the trip was made with little conversation. If anything, for Luther at least, it was a walk of realization.

They were young again, stuck in bodies that had once been filled with so much anger, fright, sadness, unsatisfaction, and loneliness that they didn't know what to do with. Just waiting until they were able to grow up and become a person. A person who was known as a name and only a name. A person who did normal people things, like go to work and have friends. Be able to breathe. Luther knew only some of them were able to achieve these things, but not all of them wanted to. But the holding still stands. Being older gave them a freedom they would never achieve in the Academy.

Nothing Luther would actually admit, knowing the other’s stance on their Father, he missed him. He missed him more than he ever thought he would. When hearing of his passing, it was as if a veil had come down on him. The discomfort he had been holding in for so long had pushed its way to the surface. One more connection of family was ripped from him, leaving him a little more incomplete and wrong.

He knows, as much as he wants to forget it, their Father was never a good person or a great father, but Luther didn't need any of those things from him. Luther craved praise as if it were his food source. He needed to please someone, anyone, he needed to be told how great he was doing. As a child, he had wanted what the others had wanted from Dad, love; he slowly understood that's not what they were there for. That wasn't their purpose in the Academy. They were to be public servants and soldiers, working under the thumb of him until they died or he did.

Reginald wasn't a good person, and likely never was. Luther knows that. He does. As much as he let them believe, he wasn't as oblivious to his father's thoughts of them. He knows he wasn’t seen a child, more of a machine, a person to use. He knows that, and he accepts that. It doesn't make missing him and wanting for his voice any less. Realizing there will be no more writings of weekly reports, hoping his gathered information is received as important Realizing he doesn't have anyone he can strive to be great for is hard to process.

As tiring as it was, he misses it. He misses him. He shouldn't and he does.

Having to go back to the Academy to see his father again, at an age where his hopes were through the roof and his expectations of adulthood were what he dreamed about was going to be hard. To go back to normal procedure and living knowing that it would one day fade and become an "unsatisfactory" memory. Living a life that was hard was something he knew he would always experience, but experiencing it with his team was worth it. 

The most unpleasant of memories would always be kept hidden in his heart and replaced with ones that made him feel as if he were walking on air. It was easier to forget and live as if they had never happened than to hold them close and let them rip him into shreds. It's easy to pretend when you're surrounded by good distraction, distractions that were stuck with him until they were able to get the assassins off their back and back to their present.

It was easy to pretend that the accident never happened. It was easy to pretend that sleep came natural to him and that he wasn't frightened of it, frightened of the memories he would experience in a state he couldn’t help himself in. It was easy to pretend he didn't work himself into a quiet night, knocking around the punching back until he passed out. It was easy to pretend that his body didn't itch under his skin, he didn't spend hours trying to get it to stop. It was all easy to pretend as long as he had bigger fish to fry.

He needed them, even if they didn't need or want him. He needed them to need him, to see him as useful. Someone needed to see him as useful. Right them and there, Luther made a vow to himself that he would try all he could to be deemed useful. Make sure he was needed, make sure they were able to survive easily. Being reminded of their unfair treatment made him want to tear his hair out.

They were children. What did they deserve to be hurt? What? They couldn't get somewhere quick enough? Get control of their powers? Be able to be blood thirsty? Be the perfect advertisement? Surpass "Number One"? Couldn't be special? Bullshit! This time, he would make sure they would do what they wanted and needed, even if they couldn’t have it from Dad. From the reactions at the funeral, it seemed that he was the only one of them that cared he was gone; so, he was sure they didn’t want anything from him.

Something close to it, since normal wasn't in their vocabulary, he would make sure they were able to live and work through this problem without the wandering eye of Reginald Hargreeves. He already missed time with their Father, what could go wrong if he took all the attention on himself? He was asking for it anyway.  
~  
They all left the back of the building, smelling like hot dumpster and fabric softener, leaving a strange harsh aroma in the air. Their crusade for clothes had taken longer than they all needed and was creating a very snappy Diego. Having to find clothes that didn't seem suspicious under the eyes of anyone at home was proven challenging and having an angry Diego and a fashion hungry Klaus and Allison became quite stressful. 

After a smelly ten minutes, Diego had full control of the mission, finding correct sizes and pushing anything that would fit correctly towards them. Opting out of finding clothes for their power drained, sleepy sibling, they found a blanket to cover Vanya to make it seem like she had just fallen asleep while they were out. Five, already in his uniform, was deemed safe; although, his vulnerable state would cause suspicion. Five never liked letting his weakness or open spots out while in public, and, depending on his mood, sometimes around them.

No longer getting looks from onlookers, Luther's stress-o-meter quickly plummeted, never hitting zero though. It wasn't hard to be cautious and paranoid at every odd glance or a look that lasted for too long from how his past week has been, for everybody really.

Just a couple weeks ago, he was living his dream, not that it didn't have its draw back, such as every dream has, but he was living a portion of his dream all the same. Able to see the stars whenever he wanted, able to be himself. (So far from any human life, he didn't even have the chance to be judged, unless he himself were the one doing it.) Next thing he knows, Reginald is dead and he has to go back home. A home that hadn't been home in a very long time. A home that no longer felt warm and comforting, more nostalgic and foreign. A home that held past memories --good and bad--, but held some in particular that he didn't wish to ever recall.

Trying to come together with his siblings, he ends up breaking everything and ruining what could have been by setting Vanya off, as if she hadn't been scared enough by what had happened previously with her and Allison. 

He doesn't regret his decision-- well, yes and no. He hadn't gone about it in the right way, treating her as if she was some stranger that invaded their home to hurt and kill them all. Talking his baby sister through it would have been the right approach. He feels so stupid looking back, how will Vanya ever see him as anything but that? How will she not be able to think of him without seeing him lock her up like a criminal? How would he get the others to see him as anything, but "Number One"?

Never being one to just give up, not being in his stubborn nature, he decided, again, that things will change. A lot of things will change.  
~  
"Q-quit mo-oving, Luther, y-y-you're gonna m-make m-me fall!" yelled Diego, holding a still unconscious Five, to Luther, "I-if I-I-I drop h-him, I'm gonna b-beat y-your ass aft-t-ter he gets done b-b-beating the hell o-o-out of bo-bo-both of us."

"I can't help it when you're standing directly on the tender part of my shoulder. Maybe hurry it up."

Luther didn't have time to sit --stand-- and argue. They needed to be back in the perimeter of the Academy before they were noticed. Being punished this close to the big happening would only set them back and lead to "strange" things happening, such as Vanya possibly having a breakdown and destroying the Academy or Five pushing his pride in Reginald's face about his success (??) on managing (??) time travel. Luther needed everything in line for his plan to work. A plan he had been quickly constructing by the time as they started heading for home. The hardest part was having to somehow get Five to go along with it, or making him think it had been his idea. Pushing tidbits of information was hard enough, but making him think it was the right move was going to be even tougher.

After being the ladder for them all, Luther hoisted himself over the gate and into the yard, behind the house. It was exactly like he had remembered it to look all those years ago. The garden and yard slowly stopped being used after most of the Academy had left, especially Vanya. The day Vanya moved out had been a cloudy, rainy day without even a hint of sun rays peeking through. Now that Luther thought about it, it was actually pretty symbolic. The day she had disappeared out of his life was the day the house became silent, only to hear Klaus coming in every so often in the night for a place to sleep and something to eat. She was one of the last to go and probably one of the hardest to see.

When he would come back from a typically brutal mission, seeing that all his missions were solo missions, she and Mom would patch him up in the infirmary. More than a couple of times, Vanya had to help him walk there as small as she is. As awkward as it was, he always expected her to not be there the next time it happened, but low and behold, there she was. Her soothing him with multiple quiet "it's okay" and "shhh" as she stitched him up gave her a place in his heart.

Waking up to the sounds of her violin coming through the walls was one of the most assuring things throughout his childhood. If Vanya was okay, everyone was, too. If any intruders had come into the home, Vanya would be away somewhere hiding or protected by one of the others; so, the peaceful sounds coming through meant everything was fine.

Her calm nature made him at peace and stood out far from the rest when they were teens. As they got older, the feeling of togetherness hindered their independence and individuality. Not wanting to be known as "One of the numbers" or "those kids from the Academy", doing what they could to be known as their own became stronger, as did the arguments. Luther wanted them to stay and be a team, while the others wanted to leave as soon as they could. Vanya was one of them that stayed longer than she had, too. That talked to him every so often without saying harsh remarks. He'll admit he deserved them sometimes, but she always came at him with kindness. He wanted her to forgive him; although, he knows she probably won't and he'll deserve it.

In his opinion, the garden was the most relaxing place to be at the Academy. It wasn't a well ventured spot for some reason; although, it took away all the hustle and bustle of daily life, for Luther, at least.

"Luther, what are you doing? We have to go in before we're caught," whisper-yelled Klaus, "and I am NOT dealing with all this bullshit this early, no thank you."

Luther looked down at his feet before answering. "I know, but can't you guys go without me? I want to stay out here for a little bit."

Diego being next to Klaus heard this and wasn't having it. "W-we don-don't have t-t-time for th-th-this, just g-ge-get in the h-house be-be-before we're n-not-ticed."

"Everyone says how Dad likes me the most, and it's true. If I was found, my punishment would be less than yours. He knows that I usually acted independently and separated myself from you guys at this age; so, I think it's fine. Go out without me. I just want to be out here for a while, to think and... just watch for a little bit."

He stood staring back at them for a moment until Ben came over and took Vanya from Klaus's arms and began walking back to the house, quickly followed by Klaus. Allison and Diego stood, trying to find out what he was thinking?, until finally turning away from him and going over to wear Klaus and Ben stood near the house. 

Luther wasn't sure what they were talking about, but was pretty sure it was something about him from the head turns in his direction before they entered the kitchen door and disappeared inside. He wondered what excuse they were going to make with the currently "sleeping" Five and Vanya. Blame it on sickness that they both got from being so close? Training accident that Vanya somehow got in the crossfire of?

Letting out a held breath, Luther looked around the garden and decided he was going to venture before meeting back up with them for dinner.

'Finally, alone.'


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where luther promises to make things better 
> 
> or where diego and ben are a comedic duo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think about the characters as being little asses who hate luther no matter what he does, I just like sad fics and characters that are unliked. also watched season 2 and the whole time i was shaking, out of excitement. i live for the aesthetic of diego.

Standing in the back garden, he was hit with memories that he hadn't thought about in the longest time, he had almost forgotten them. Remembering watching Grace and Vanya tend to the garden for hours while humming whatever Vanya was playing that day from the third floor window, not wanting to be seen. It was one of the places she looked like she was unapologetically being herself, sad now that he thinks of it. Grace put her clean and sharp exterior down for the while to openly dirty her dress and take off the heels she always wore.

He always thought it was odd that she never broke her "dress code", not jeans, skirts, anything besides what she always wore. The surprise he got when he realized all moms didn't dress like that was huge, and something he now thought he should have obviously known.

The garden was no longer wilted and barren as it had been for a long time. Once Vanya packed up, Grace never really came out there as much. She stayed inside, not even leaving the house, just staring out the window as if she were watching a great scene unravel. Getting her attention as time came on got harder once she started looking out the windows and leaving her to it seemed like a better idea than watching her get herself together and slightly drop her air of sunshine. He guessed he wasn't the only one affected by the garden.

Luther found it so odd that everything could change so drastically in such a small expanse of time. One day, they're all together, saving people from possible death, and coming to the only place they've ever known without a name or true identity, but together. A place where they were always connected by being the only other people they actually knew or we're allowed to come into contact with. The next, their scattered all around New York City or wherever Klaus's next habit gets him or wherever Allison's next movie takes her. The only people they could confide in about their troubles once upon time are now strangers without a subject to relate on, besides the obvious.

For Luther, the house held a lot of... old wishful thinkings. When the sky was the limit and nothing could take them down because they were the Umbrella Academy! fighting crime as a team. He found it wasn't as fun when you were doing it all by his lonesome, life wasn't as fun.

He often ended up hanging around in their bedrooms just to feel some kind of importance and community, imagining what they would be doing if they were here right then. Tell him to get out of his room, asking if he wanted something, ignore him completely, etc. Reading all the books on the shelves and reading in all the drawn in notes or highlighted sentences. Rummaging through drawers, finding old discarded makeup and magazines posters. Finding old lighters, half empty bottles of rum, and ciggies. Searching for a often seen knife just to see if he had thought it as special enough to take. Everything is in pristine condition as if it hadn't been touched in years, and hadn't except for the soft prodding. Finding nothing at all. 

How did they all get so far away?  
~  
He stayed out for a little longer, just taking in the new --old-- scenery, and put it in the back of his mind that he would come out again to visit, if Five hadn't already made a mastermind plan of getting them back. You never know with him being the way he is. He'll make sure to reveal what he knows when he's already three steps in front of you, making it seem like you are on the same playing field, but once you do something he predicted, which is more likely than it seems, Five'll knock you flat on your ass. 

It's always been that way with Five keeping his cards close to his chest. Just like a couple days ago! Not only did they all have to deal with the apocalypse and how to prevent it, but secret time travel agencies ready to kill anyone close to Five. He really doesn't want to deal with them and knows that he'll have to deal with them eventually, hopefully later than sooner.

Opening the kitchen door, where the others had gone through before, he peeked his head through to see if Grace was occupying it or not. He knows he should really start calling her 'Mom' in his head like he had done before; he doesn't want to risk slipping up and doing something out of the ordinary. It was almost a rule not to call her by her name since 'Mom' fit her perfectly.

Everything she's done was perfect mother material, never dropping a cruel word and always giving a gentle hand. She wasn't like Dad, Dad wasn't a parent, more of a manager of sorts? Made sure they got where they needed when they needed and wasn't too scared to give the "talents" a talking to. More like a manager of sorts from a very concerning company. He knew there were probably better ways to put it, but nothing was coming out that fit; so, he thought it would do for now.

"Hi, Luther. Do you want a snack? You must be awfully hungry for being outside." Grace greeted him once his presence was made noticeable, which was pretty fast. Being in his smaller, normal body made him unused to the strength he had. It was far less than what had been, and guessing he could open doors more aggressively -- compared to how he had before, not wanting to break them -- was more than he expected.

"... no, G- MOm, I-i'm good, like not hungry whatsoever." His back was basically on the wall as he quickly moved through the kitchen, hoping she wouldn't notice his clothes. "T-thanks for asking..."

"No child will go without food in this household. Here, take a cookie." Her calm and soothing voice called out to him while she put as many cookies in his hands as he could hold.

He murdered a 'thanks, mom', finally getting the words to say them in the typical way he had said it before... all this happened, and made a mad dash to the stairs. Well, it was supposed to be a mad dash until he thought of the punishment he would get if he was caught running in the house and being caught after sneaking back inside the house -- that he technically wasn't in, in the first place, pretty sure that Reginald wouldn't care about that though, not that he could tell him -- and bringing in the smell of "outside filth" back into the house.

Briskly walking through the halls, he made it up to his room in record time while having a mini heart attack everytime he heard a bump in the rooms around him. Passing the other rooms, he realized they might have already started their meeting without them. The meeting that was actually an "end of the world planning" meeting, where he guessed it was actually going to just end up with Five talking to them while they just nodded their heads; it usually ended like that. Too much bark, and bite, in him to steer him off of his task of leading the show. It was kind of nice when someone else had to take care of everything.

Ripping his door open, quite literally, ripping the door from the hinges, Luther started to get dressed, after putting the door back where it was supposed to go. The uneven break of the door allowed it to rest gently against the frame without falling, he noticed with a sign of relief.

His body felt too light, unlike his previous one, even before the whole "ape serum" thing happened, and if it wasn't obvious, he was NOT used to it. Before it had felt like he was holding a newborn baby everytime he went to touch something, slow and gentle like he could break it, because he could and it would NOT go unnoticed.   
After a while of the same old, same old, he was able to get more comfortable with doing every day tasks, but knew to always think before he touched. Punishment for another broken door or chair or bed or whatever around him just wasn't worth it anymore.

The cupboard held the same seven uniforms it always held, being exchanged for better fittings every so often, as did his socks drawer. Everything was kept in the same pristine condition it had been way back, now?, then. He felt the others would have a better sense of deja vu than he was for this was an everyday thing for him; except, him growing out of the phase: Academy.

Away went the navy shorts with matching tops and ties, in came the loose fitting jackets and turtlenecks. Loose fitting being subjective since most things he bought, even in the biggest size, wasn't comfortable with him. A lot of things stopped becoming comfortable with him. Daily jogs around New York. Wearing shorts and tight jeans. Being slightly undressed. Mirrors. Physical affection. Affection. Living.

Bigger fish to fry, Luther, bigger fish to fry.

In the meantime, he quickly got dressed, falling back into a body memorized schedule. Under shirt, button up, pants, socks, belt, blaiser, and lastly shoes. Reaching to get his mask, realizing he didn't need it, he sat staring at the door. Would they get him or did he need to reach them first? Would they be acting like usually just in case anyone was looking? Would him going up to them blow his cover? He didn't know.

Tick, tick, tick. The clock continues as he could feel himself get more listless. His adrenaline had finally kicked off as well as his anxious stomach ache.

"Luther, we've been waiting for you. What's wrong with your door?" A voice came from outside his room, moving the door before realizing it's brokenness.

Ignoring the question, Luther replied, "Sorry, I've been busy. I'll be out in a minute."

"Seriously, what's wrong with your door?" Allison asked as he got from his bed and moved the door from it's propped place. "It's literally off its hinges. Are you okay in there? Do you need me to get Diego or Five?"

Worry leaked from her voice and showed clearly in her face once he turned away from the door, placing it just perfectly. "Nope, all cool. Just not... used to this." He gestured to his body with an awkward 'I don't want to be here' look on his face.

She didn't say anything else and just looked at him. Taking the silence as a go on, he continued. "Not used to my body being small and holding this much power? I'm used to holding back because my body called for it even if I wasn't trying. I thought it wouldn't be like it had, but it is. I'm not used to it."

Allison made a sound of approval or just a sound saying 'I'm listening', but Luther didn't go on. They walked the rest of the way, to the attic, in silence.  
~  
Meanwhile,

"How are we gonna wake him up? We need a plan before seeing Dad." Ben squatted down hugging down, staring at Five.

"I have an idea."

"No, Klaus." Both Diego and Ben said in unison.

"But it's really, really, really good. It's gonna work. I guarantee it, cross my heart and hope to die."

"That one doesn't apply to you, now does it?" Ben questioned not looking at him, still staring at the sleeping Five.

"What?"

"Bennn, why are you going around telling my secrets? I CAN wake him up. Just let me do it, literally c'mon." Klaus whined out.

"Nope, I have a feeling of what way you'll do it and I'm telling you, it's gonna lead to you bleeding." He stopped looking at Five and pointed his look towards Klaus.

"No, okay, wait, maybe a little, yeah, I'll definitely be punched, but it's sooo worth it. Look, look. I'm drooling from the thought of it. Not the punching part, maybe only a little."

"Klaus, stop being an ass. I'll just shake him a little bit and see if it wakes him up." Diego grabbed Klaus by the shoulders and made his face look towards him.

"I'll do it, I'll be more gentle; so, he doesn't wake up ready to fight." Ben moved to touch Five when Diego stopped him.

"I said I'd do it. Butt out."

"Yeah, I know and clearly said that I would do it. You're too rough."

"No, I'm not."

Instead of saying anything, Ben gave him a look that yelled 'are you sure about that?'.

"Okay, I'm too rough, in most aspects, but I'm going to do it!"

"You're not fit to do it."

"And you are."

"Yes. Exactly."

"Shut up, I'm gonna do it."

"You're gonna make this worse."

"No, I'm not, you're stressing me out."

"Meaning your only gonna fuck it up worse."

While they got deeper and deeper into their argument, Klaus slowly creeped up to Five, all asleep and adorable, so peaceful. Klaus immediately had the urge to completely and utterly ruin it. He thought of the perfect thing to do. This was going to hurt.

"SHE'S STEALING YOUR PENSION!" Klaus yelled into Five's ear, shaking his shoulder. The reaction was immediate.

"OW, fuck, Five, not the face. Not my money maker." He whined.

"I told you he'd make you bleed."  
~  
The meeting had started with a grumpy, now awake, Five, thanks to Klaus, sitting by the bed currently resided by Vanya, who somehow hadn't woken up from all of that. Luther, as well as the others, stood around the bed waiting for Five to finally say something of importance for all he had been mumbling for the last ten minutes was how disrespectful and "fucking rude" this age of people were. Luther wasn't sure how that worked since they were all born in the same year, but wasn't about to bring it up when Five just looked like he was ready to bite the head off of anyone who dared talk to him.

"I can't help it, Benny, I'm a creature of habit..." Klaus whispered to Ben, who had said something in his ear a moment before, kicking the awkward almost silence out of the room.

"Five, can you stop your, your whatever all that is? We really need to get everything, all this total chaos, in the bag before everything else gets worse." Allison exclaimed as if she couldn't hold it in anymore. Luther jumped at this.

Getting up from the bed, Five began pacing the room and wringing his hands together. Luther could do nothing, but stare at his brother who seemed like he was having an anxiety attack. He continued for a while like that, switching between holding his hands tightly and running his hands through his hair, pulling here and there. His mutterings would stop and then start, and completely stop while he stared at a fixed spot on the floor only to continue again. It was indicated that he had gotten his thoughts "together" when he made an "unhum" sound and stopped moving.

“My calculation was off by a bit-,” which earned a scoff from Diego and a huff coming from Allison’s direction, “but nevertheless, we need to get the plan figured out and ingrained so none of you fuck it up. Here’s the plan: at this very moment, the Commission is looking through every possible disgruntled timeline looking for us… waiting for us to do something drastic and call them to our whereabouts. I’ve already done so much… days spent tired… people left behind… fifty fucking years… and I’m not having my plans messed with.

“We can’t let the Commission know we’re here; so, till further notice, living during this time is going to be a constant --until I can find a reality we can cohabit while under the radar or until I eliminate them-- how lengthy this may be is unknown at the moment. Just do whatever you would do if you were your thirteen year old self, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Luther kept to the background, unusual for him, and let the others say their part which was more yelling than saying, more demanding than making a statement. Saying anything at this point --no matter the usefulness of the thought or how mundane, something stupid like… taking in the weather or soemthing of the same effect-- would cause an uproar, a deserved uproar. She hadn’t even woken up yet; so, at least, there was one upside to this. Seeing her reaction to him, if it was anything like after, it would send aches or small acrobats with the sharpest of knives after his midsection.

Saying nothing is the best for everybody, not that chewing him out would get nothing done, but it was unneeded at this point. Figuring out what to do and how to act is the most important thing they could do for now. No matter the… not good things he and the others had experienced in these bodies; the survival of all mankind was in their hands, their child sized hands. 

“So… if I have this correct, no making changes whatsoever even if they may be needed… but I guess that’s how important you guys deem it to be so…?” slowly tapering off and full of silent stops Ben went back to where he stood next to Klaus.

As soon as his words set in, eyes were effectively on him looking him up and down for this is the first time in a long, long time that they had seen their brother in the flesh; seen him with flushed cheeks instead of a blue haze that encaptured all of him.

“If we are able to make changes, as subtle or as big as they may be, it should be a… team vote. There are more important, astronomically important, decisions we must make and I would say this one would be unanimous, seeing that one of us is currently unconscious, we will have to come back at a later time. But the record still stands, a decision is a team vote and every member being able to vote is important.” Five rambled off making eye contact with everyone, doing that crazed out look he does when in a frenzy.

“Aww, you love us,” Klaus turned away from Five and excitedly to Ben, “ Benny, you hear that, you’re gonna experience so many things. You have to break at least one bone. Oh, oh, and- and take a bubble bath high; it is an other worldly experience. Nothing too risky, so just a little weed. If I have to quit all these fun things, you can't start 'em. Remember that one night in Albany where I basically -”

“I’m not doing that, Klaus, you couldn’t pay me to do that. We’ll talk about the rest later, we still have a bucket list to finish.” They both then began talking in a quieter pitch that had taken over the rest of the siblings, if they were talking whatsoever. Five was busy with pacing in a long stretch muttering out loud every so often, something about the Commission and alternate realities. Diego and Allison had buddied up, sparing glances at the sleeping Vanya and rarely Luther; Diego’s a glare and Allison’s a mix of something he couldn’t identify. A mix of pity and anger? A mix of hope and oppose?

It aggravated him that Allison would see him like that when once upon a time it was AllisonandLuther vs. the world, well the world for Luther and collectively the others. As they grew older, the more they pulled apart from each other. Allison pulled apart and Luther couldn't do anything but watch as she left him, as well as the rest of his siblings.

He would just leave their stance as disfigured for now, with all of them even the ones that were a little more than dysfunctional before all of this started. They could play happy family when everything was sorted out and the plan was written in stone, or in Five’s notebook, well in his mind. Five would probably berate him and tell him how idiotic that idea was. ‘Why write down a plan for anyone to see if I ever would’ve lost sight of it?’ Of course, how could he ever ask such a stupid question? Five would never lose anything that holds that much importance, or admit he had.

Small stuff like this doesn’t matter right now, he is in a human body. An actual human body! Running his fingers up and down his arms after slipping his hand into the sleeve of his blazer and under his button up, just taking in the lack of arm hair and tough skin. He hasn’t felt his body like this in the longest time.

After the accident and serum, Luther was too caught in trying to get everything back the way it was supposed to be. Reginald had become strange with him since it happened and getting back on his good graces was his main plan; so, a forced speedy recovery was nothing too bad. Their usual every day or weekly, sometimes bi-weekly, team reports, not really a team now that it was only him, had come to a stop now that he was too injured and… beastly for anyone to see him.

As much as he tried to get used to his new body, it still felt foreign and wrong. Too wrong to ignore. A constant itching under his skin and heat appeared to always be there. Scratching the seen skin and pulling out the bushells of hair didn’t seem to make it go away any, which only made everything worse. Being the leader he was supposed to make sure all of his team was in good shape and his team was NOT in good shape.

But he couldn’t complain too much, everything could’ve been worse. He could have died if it hadn’t been for Dad helping him and making sure that he survived somehow, even if he’d rather prefer anything, but this. His body was completely different from how it had been. The only similarity had been that he was still big, just now it was wrongly big like someone had popped the head off an action figure and put it onto the body of a massive character like the Hulk, just a bad combination. A bad combination, it was.

The nights and days he had spent up thinking and trying to stop thinking. Days spent awake thinking about where he went wrong and how he can get to feeling like himself again, realizing that nothing will ever be the same. A good leader knows how to take things in stride and adapt to certain uncomfortable situations to further better the team, but this was something completely different. Stress had become apparent enough that even Reginald had to take notice of it. The lumbering sounds of feet in the early hours of the day, blood stains in the training room, hair found around the house. To not see what was happening, you had to be literally ignoring it and purposely keeping the wool over your eyes, which Reginald did until he couldn’t anymore.

Luther’s “setback” had caused havoc in the household, not as big as you would think it would be, but enough that it caused him a discomfort, a discomfort Reginald wasn’t used to feeling. If it wasn’t apparent, Reginald was a man of strict regiment and harsh ruling, a tough love without the love. If he didn’t want something happening, it wasn’t happening. At this point, he couldn’t cause the Academy to go under fire due to Number One’s “insolence” and “selfish” behavior. A quick pepper up was going to be the boy’s medicine; a trip to a place he had always imagined and wished for, dreamed and longed for. Space.

It was obvious how the rest went. After the first few weeks, the novelty wore off and the haze drew closer. He quickly lost sight of the time passing and feeling not only stuck in his skin but away from all humanity, stuck away from where someone, anyone, was bound to help him or stick beside him, let him cry. Even if it was Grace and sometimes Pogo. Anyone was better than that.

The small communication he had with Reginald has dwindled down to zero contact, only getting back packages of food and sometimes not ever that. Luther still, as he timely did, sent progress reports and new discoveries he had found, but this wasn’t enough. Making logs of where he would just talk aloud to himself? or just everything about anything… everything he hadn’t been able to say before and more that he had found out while existing by himself.

“We should go downstairs. Dinner will start soon. Grace and Dad will notice if we're ALL late. Also, we can say Vanya is sick?” Luther told the group, waving his hands towards Vanya's sleeping body.

“M-mom, i-it’s Mom. Don’t call her by her first name, Number One. Talking of Number One, you want to finally jut in now that the initial terror is over, like always.” retorted Diego from beside Allison, standing up and bucking up to him. At least, he and Diego won’t have to pretend to carry their relationship like they had when they were younger. Now, it’s a little too strong and will probably get confusing looks from Mom, damn it he had forgotten about that, due to the intensity of it all.

“I’m not trying to argue with you, Diego, I’m just saying we better get back to routine before we’re caught like Five said. We… we have to return to normal and just lay low like we had beforehand. So, let’s all get ready for the day, okay? Or whatever’s left of it.” This time his voice came out warbly, the years of not being around Diego and their usual banter had made him rusty and awkward around all of them in times like these.

“And just putting it out there, the Vanya situation was your fault like mostly completely.” Klaus spoke out from a bit away, finally getting bored with the situation and wandering around the garden.

“... yes, I know, but that isn’t the point right now. We need to get back to-”

“You can’t always deflect the situation, Number One, for problems you caused. Although, you weren’t the only cause, if anything you were the lighter that ignited the wic on an already burning bomb. Many factors were put in place to get Vanya to this point where she couldn’t control herself or the powers that were finally accessible for her; powers she didn’t know how to keep at bay.” interrupted Five from his pacing fit, leaving the grass path he had trampled down.

“See he always does this, just like when we were younger. He always wants to put his leader titles above our heads and then when it finally comes to taking leader responsibilities, it’s out of his hands.” Diego said, keeping the conversation sparking while Luther withdrew into himself.

From what he’s learned previously is that it’s better to let them get it all out before he started up again. The fuzzy little prickles ran up his arms and itched furiously.

“This isn’t… the point. I know I’ve messed up, and… I don’t want to ruin this before it’s even started. This plan is getting everything in order or whatever Five is thinking up. We really need to go downstairs before Dad or Gr- Mom or Pogo,” his voice tapered off, “ ... seriously.”

“Luther.” Allison finally spoke up after keeping quiet like her throat was still in the condition it was hours before, as if Vanya had recently slit open her throat in a fit of rage ruining her voice, making her power obsolete and useless. She had no real reason for her quietness, especially at that moment, and her sudden voice didn’t make it any better. If anything, it made it worse. Even though they were in their child bodies, the relationship they had as children wasn’t going to suddenly go back to as it had.

“Luther’s right. If our - Five’s - plan is going to work, we’re going to normalize anything we do, and being caught in clothes like these won’t help our case. Let’s go, Klaus.” grabbing Klaus’ hand, Ben led him towards one of the back entrances.

Luther looked at Vanya and Allison for only a split second before looking away, also heading back into his room. Twinges of guilt racked his conscience seeing the state of his younger sisters: both looking exhausted and too old for their young frames. He could have stopped this, only if, if he had done something better. If he had treated her differently, gave her the shoulder or simple ears she needed. Keeping her locked up, trapped, as if it had been when they were younger was the worst decision he could have made. Remembering her staring out one of the numerous windows into the courtyard where they were training long ago instantly hit him.

Trapped so close, but so far away from everyone. Something he could relate with. Space was heaven and hell, teetering to fall to one side at any small twitch of movement.

He would make this better: for her, for everyone. This is the least he could do. If he ever wanted Vanya to forgive him, he would have to do anything and everything he could to make it up to her - not just her - all of his siblings. For the years of arrogance and ignorance. This time would be better, pushing himself to the limit was something he specialized in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't help myself with the misfits reference it sends  
> and im making Klaus&ben&diego a dream team through this


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> luther worries, breaks a thing, and reggie stares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to post this yesterday and didn't, sorry. also next chapter will be a little hardcore and descriptive of violence. like luther is not okay and i feel bad for him, but at the same time am doing it?? poor guy :(

Dinner went without a hitch. As soon as they sat back at that table, as soon as they were allowed to, muscle memory kicked in. Awkward glances were exchanged around the table. Shivers would run down Luther's spine every time he looked at his father. It was made worse when his glances were met with eye contact, eyes of questioning and unreadable emotion. Once they met, it's as if his warning bells were going off, for both Luther and Reginald, his eyes stayed on a very uncomfortable Number One for the rest of the night.

It was obviously noticeable and Luther just wished that he would just be pulled out to talk about whatever he was obviously staring at him for. He thought better to get it over with than wait in anticipation and queasy fear while dinner moved along. As much as Luther was pretending it wasn't happening, it wasn't the same for the others. Not only was he getting a stare down by Dad, but also the rest of the Academy. When they mouthed questions to him, he was only able to shrug his shoulders and feign apathy about the situation.

Vanya looked as sickly as could be, the makeup Allison had found in her room only made her look like a sick spoon in the sun: shiny, sweaty, and miserable. Poor Vanya hadn’t felt what was pushing your power until you couldn't anymore, filling the dam so full until it cracked and seeped out all of the murky waters, and it was obvious. Well, obvious from their point of views. The amount of times they had looked the same way and felt the absolute pits she was feeling wasn’t something they could count on two hands.

A constant eye was on her at all times from every member of the table, except Reggie who had more important things to do like stare Luther down until he was fully body shaking, and trying to hide it badly. Luther had troubles looking at her for too long, the embarrassment and shame filling was too much for him to handle without being able to say something or make it apparent.

Five wasn’t looking the best either, but with him you’ll never hear about it when it comes to the subject at hand. He was the type to suffer in silence and feign ignorance at the fact he was walking with a broken leg.

Continuing to eat, he wished the floor would just suck him up and take him anywhere, but there, or that Five would have left him behind or Hazel and Cha Cha would have crushed him a couple days ago. Honestly, anything would be better than the situation that was unravelling. He knew that every side was going to hound him for this, and only one knew the reason for it.

Hell, even Luther didn't know what it was about. It could be something past him had done, but he thinks he would have remembered something as... awkwardly awkward as this. All this weird air was making him lose his appetite. Setting down his fork and laying it against his plate, Luther sat still with his hands in his lap, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Maybe it was the fact he walked Vanya to her chair? It wasn't an action he had done before, he was basically carrying her. As much as they wanted her to stay upstairs and recover, they didn't have that choice. When they told Grace, Vanya wasn't going to attend dinner tonight, she told them she didn't think it was a good idea and that "their father" wouldn't like this, it was best to bring her down. 

~

"I'll wake her up, she might be happier to see me and know that I'm not mad at her... I'd never be mad at her." Allison said softly while petting Vanya's hair.

No one said a word, giving her the okay to wake Vanya. Luther knew no one wasn't going to tell her no, he sure as hell wasn't. Not that he could be sure what Vanya was thinking, he could only guess that she was the only few of them that was able to keep her calm at this time. Allison would hopefully be a reassuring face in this hazy shitstorm they would call their new life.

Allison shook her causing Vanya to move a bit and murmur a couple undistinguished words Luther couldn't really make out. "Come on, Vanya. Wake up, sweetie. You need to get up, okay." She rasped in a sweet voice.

Vanya woke a little bit after hearing her name being called. Allison whispered for a little while more, asking her to get up and calling her the cutest of pet names, making Klaus fawn in the background. They all stood back in an uneven semi-circle watching as Allison coddled Vanya into the world of the living, Luther feeling quite awkward in his position with it all. Wanting to make everything better and knowing that he was the one who made it like this in the first place. His interference would only make things worse... like world ending worse.

Vanya woke up in a slight haze, met with the face of Allison as a child. Boy, was this going to be confusing.

~

It was less confusing than it would seem.

Luther felt as if he should have left the room, and had a hard time hiding behind everyone, completely unobvious to all but him. Just the way her eyes filled with tears while talking to Allison was enough to put him in a constant state of anxiety and self loathing. She didn't mean to, but was still dangerous? She wept and wept until she began coughing, apologizing up and down that she didn't mean to and was sorry. Vanya was instantly surrounded with reassurance telling her they knew it wasn't her intention and that she was born without a single malicious bone in her body; knew she was overwhelmed and couldn't control herself, her power.

Concentrating on the kitchen table, Luther wondered how they were going to deal with Vanya, and help Vanya. They couldn't tell Reginald, he already knew this and wasn't going to bring it to the table. She already felt betrayed, he's sure, and thought making her even more vulnerable would only bring him farther into the hole, with everyone. Five must have a solution for this, he always did.

Sooner or later, Dad would realize something was going on. Sir Reginald Hargreeves wasn't the type of person who would allow or accept "nefarious acts'' going on under his nose without dire consequences. They would have to pay. All of them. Group punishment is a favorite of his. Or his other.

"Number One." Reginald's voice broke through the silence and instantly put ice on Luther's bones. Oh god, he knows, he knows everything. It's all ruined.

"Yes, sir?" He replied trying to keep it steady and confident, but knew it failed. Weakness was all he heard in his ears.

"I expect you in my office at nine sharp." Don't be late was something that didn't need to be said, it was expected.

"Of course, sir."

Six pairs of eyes were on him for the rest of dinner, while he sat wondering what else could go worse. Nothing got better for them, it seemed. Why expect it now?

~  
"What the fuck was that? What did you do?" Diego said, pushing him in the chest as they entered the attic, their designated meeting spot, getting him blocked in mainly by Diego, with his siblings behind him.

Klaus and Ben looked uninterested, Klaus more than Ben. Maybe Ben was happy to experience something by himself this time? Since apparently he's been, ha, by Klaus's side since... yeah. Possibly having a problem that he actually had the body to solve was an exhilarating feeling and worth watching process, able to react with problems even? He wasn't sure. 

As children, he and Ben hadn't been the closest of friends. They drifted in opposite directions completely, most of the time. Bonding through books and quiet when they had the time, rarely spent time together. Ben was busy with Klaus and all his rambunctious antics, like having his own child -- a drugged, drunk, fashionable child -- , and Luther with his press meetings and dinner parties; never got a chance to actually know each other.

"Nothing? Nothing! I swear I didn't do anything. How would I have the time to? I've been with you guys the whole time." Luther felt his heart race and unconsciously began itching his hands, digging deeper and deeper until he felt a burning sensation.

He was given a pointed look by then all, he knew they didn't believe him and wanted him to go on. Why was that with everyone lately? Like he was secretly going off in secret and making decisions behind the back of them all. Well… because it had happened before, and he thought he was doing the right thing. Remember outcome over intent. 

That was more of Five's expertise, and this only happened a couple of times as children. Reginald liked when things went the way he... liked and Luther liked when his father was proud of him. If everything was kept in line and kept perfect, everyone would have a great time without repercussions; although, it seemed that this family was unable to succeed at this.

"I honestly have no idea what he wants with me. You all know how Dad is. He always has a problem, maybe he thinks I'm not doing my part as Number One lately." Luther exclaimed, awkwardly laughing, scratching the back of his head.

"Did this meeting happen last time? I don't recall Dad breaking his golden rule of keeping us all shut for you, of all people." Five spat out. "Why did he now?"

"I-I don't, I don't know." His voice tapered off quietly.

"Luther, in all fairness, you most likely did something." Klaus spoke up from between Ben and Vanya.

"That makes sense." Ben nodded his head. 

Luther looked down, not understanding why they still, still, wouldn't believe him. He didn’t think he messed up and did something wrong, wrong enough, to catch their father’s attention. He couldn’t think of anything he's done in the past couple of hours that would've called out his fa--- wait.

"Um..."

"Um what, Luther! Are you saying you've already ruined my work... my years of work in one fucking afternoon!" Five rushed up with a dangerous look, a look that killed. He was much more frightening now that they were the same height.

Luther started before Five could go into a rant about it all. "I might have broken the door to my room --accidentally-- this evening."

"How broken is broken?" Diego asked like it couldn't have been the reason he was called.

"Off the hinges." Allison spoke up before Luther could lie.

"Allison!" Luther whined out, making his usual long puppy dog face, now just many years younger.

Klaus whistled a low note and was elbowed by Ben, after he whispered something unknown into his ear that earned a glare.

"Straight off the hinges?" Diego questioned him.

"How do you even manage that? You're not even huge anymore?" Ben wondered aloud.

"Shouldn't that not even happen… now?" Allison asked him, quietly.

"Yes. I don't know. My body still has around the strength it did before... just smaller now." He sighed out, feeling overwhelmed now that the attention was all on him. "Haven't gotten used to it yet... but I will soon. That's what he wants to talk to me about, I'm sure."

Luther looked around trying to change to conversation to make eye contact with Allison and a realization came over him. She had been hurt and unable to speak less than a day ago and now she could speak; although, it was slightly raspy and whispered. If she was still having side effects from past, future, injuries, what about everyone else?

“First things first, injuries. I don’t care about the size they range in. An estimation of size and pain ranking will be in order.” called out Luther from the side of the room, walking closer to the middle like old times. Looking over their bodies, and the skin he was able to see, he was able to see obvious nicks and bruises, possibly from the fall.

“I think we’re all okay except for the draining feeling, right Five, Vanya?” Ben spoke up from down on the floor. 

As soon as he spoke, all eyes were on him something he obviously wasn’t used to, seeing that he withdrew into himself, going unnoticed by Luther too busy with reading the faces in the room. If they were feeling a great pain, it would show in their faces was his thought. (He didn’t find out much.)

Maybe from all the years of Klaus actually seeing him and not through him made him feel awkward when the people he was looking at could see him too. Like looking through a dark-tinted car window, checking your teeth, when, whoever’s in it, rolls down the window and stares back at you like ‘what the hell are you doing?’. Luther wasn’t sure.

Ever since they were younger, Ben had always blended into the background, happy to do so. When in the spotlight, acting pinched and robotic. Luther thought Ben better get used to it now that he was no longer past tense. Present tense for now and forever, if they could help it.

If it was noticeable, he was a bit emotionally impaired, not that he didn’t have them, just that he couldn’t recognize them easily. Some were very obvious. Someone dying and another person crying equals sadness. A smile that reaches the eyes equals happiness. Those were easy enough; things like these aren’t just black and white. Over the years from different types of people, good and bad, he’s been shown an array of how people manage and show how they feel. Five, for instance, when mad and ready to start biting smiles big and wide. If you wouldn’t’ve seen his eyes, you would’ve thought he was just happy to see you, maybe a little too enthusiastic.

“When I pushed my consciousness into the time we just left, my body was rid of all pains, scars, and ailments my usual one had, except for the tiredness and difficulty expanding my powers for long amounts of time. I would have to make the assumption that we should all be relatively in good health and body - depending on our body’s current status. Luckily for me that got rid of a pair of wobbly knees and a stiff neck, but for you… not so lucky. Until I am able to work out the equation to get us back to 2019, which may take days or weeks or years.

"Took me decades, and much more, so much more, to finally get back to you guys the first time. I'm unsure how long it will take before we can get back. Relatively speaking, my work space was... more catatonic than this. Now that we're in a constant, it might improve my efforts. As long as I have coffee, work will happen anywhere. We may have to live out our lives here and wait until it becomes present time. All depends on the Commission's arrival. They will find us eventually, we need to get ready before they do. And talking about being ready, Vanya.

"We need to do something about your powers and your ability of not being able to control them. Since this is pertaining to you, what do you want to do with them." Five turned to her, unknowing of the argument that is going to arise after this; although, Five is Five, he knew it would.

The room went silent before spiraling into chaos, as Five simply sipped a cup of, what Luther guessed, coffee, that he must of snuck out and back in to get. Everyone was arguing their opinion, most of them similar, but different enough to cause an even bigger uproar. This must have looked quite comical if an outsider had seen them like this: all in heated conversations, whisper-yelling at each other while the biggest and smallest ones stood looking at everyone frantically.

"Guys, please stop. It's.... it's..." Vanya makes a face of distress and looks like she's about to cry. They're all lucky that Vanya took her pill before going downstairs for dinner; he knew it was highly likely if she hadn't the room would be destroyed.

As a child, and as an adult, when everything became too much, too deal with and face, his powers went berserk. Not as harsh as Vanya's, less damaging in a way that doesn't lead to total world destruction, but ends up usually breaking things and hurting himself and others; pure accidents. Luther recalls breaking Diego's arm one day during training. A few remarks that struck home more than intended, or perfectly intended and not the outcome, led to Luther putting his wrist in too tight of a hold. With foot sized holes in the floors when he ran to his room not knowing how to deal with this "problem".

Being treated like a loose canon for a week or so until he finally had it in control, which is harder than it sounds, even by Allison, who tried her hardest not to flinch when he went to touch her afterwards. This was one of the pivotal points in his life when he pushed farther away from physical interaction, growing honestly scared that he would lose control and accidentally hurt someone again.

He was kept away from training and made to stay in a separate wing of the Academy for an extended amount of time, long after he was able to keep himself under control. Being punished for ruining not only his progress but another on the team deemed it deserved. How naïve he was. Barred from training, the only times he was able to see his siblings were during study hours; his were shortened so he could focus more on getting back to his past progress. Glares were sent to him by Diego while his wrist, his preferred throwing hand, healed and was brought up every time they argued. It got old very quickly.

Having interaction with someone his age, besides his siblings, were a rare chance and were never for long. To have an actual conversation with a kid who wasn't scared out of their mind, fearing they were going to die then and there, was something that virtually never happened. Now that he wasn't able to see his siblings, his days were filled with self loathing and wanting, wanting for so much more than this. Wanting to live peacefully, somewhere he can be himself, without the risk of hurting anyone he cared about.

This is where his love for the moon skyrocketed, pun intended. His nights alone, when sleep was only a pipe dream, ended up with him talking to the moon, knowing he looked like someone deranged, but he still carried on. No matter how big he got he would always be small (an observation he later made), he would always be small in space. Infinitesimal in space.

The planets and the stars became his safety net. Whenever he couldn't process, or chose to avoid his problems, Luther always came back to the moon. As he got older, the moon was the only constant in his life. The only thing that stayed, never leaving him. Never listening to him with malicious ears. Shining a gleam of light into his face when he would hang out of his window, hoping to get a little closer to his only true solace. He didn't care if the cameras hidden in plain sight would see, Luther needed this. The accident had left him without a window to seek through and a body to move without pain. Being sent to space was his only source of relief in that horrible time.

After a few months went by, he was able to get used to the quietness that inhabited everything around him and honestly found it soothing to hear all the mechanics making their own little ticks. It was a natural white noise that filled the background of his work days and off days - saying off days makes it sound like he was tired of what he was doing and the boredom didn’t completely enrapture him. Work was all he was able to do. He had remained in space so long that all the hobbies and activities, he was comfortable to do with the thought of his father watching, had already been done and ceased doing. The moon would always comfort him and be his saving grace when his mind became a bit too addled.

He wasn't sure if Vanya had something like this. She had her violin, and Five at one point. From what he had seen, her violin wasn't as much of a safety net and more of a place of comfort. All of her wounds torn fresh were open and anything else was just bringing it deeper. Luther needed to think fast before this got any worse, for Vanya.

"Everyone, stop!", rang out before he could act, being pushed against the wall while the others were pushed into furniture. "Don't speak as if I'm not here! This is just like when we were younger, always leaving me out. I,,, I don't -- I don't want to do that again: feeling like an outsider in my own family. I'm like you guys now, I'm special, I matter. Please. Let me decide on this one thing. I'm special, too, and now I finally, finally, get to say what I want. Please."

All eyes were on her, all mouths were closed. She looked towards Five for conformation. Once he shook his head, Vanya let out a held breath, closing her eyes, as well as wringing her hands together. Luther supposed that she was working herself up by the scrunched look on her face. Her body sagged even more than it had at the table. Pushing her already too pushed powers almost brought her to her knees. 

"Vanya, it's okay. Just say it." Five told her gently, suddenly appearing at her side. His words appeared to have soothe her nerves enough for her to finally open eyes and seize the tight, painful grip she had on her hands.

"...okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movie "but im a cheerleader" ( a queer classic) had been creating fic ideas in my head. im honestly thinking about writing a fic about dolph's time throughout the movie since im infatuated with his character and feel like he deserved more screen time.... also dante basco


	4. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little short thing about how everyone gets along, a little, and figures out what to do with little Van Van

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throughout this I'm gonna make Diego a real arguer and not like an asshole, but like defensive when it seems right. I really feel in love with the scene in season 2 ///SLIGHT SPOILER ALERT/// when five asks him about the infinite switch board and the whole making it his bitch while arguing made me slightly rewrite his character, only a bit.

The high tensions in the room eventually calmed down while Vanya gathered her words, after saying what she truly felt after years and years of keeping taciturn must have tired her out and felt extremely exhilarating. This time around -- they learned from last time -- that arguing would only make everything worse and possibly compromise their plan before they even worked it out completely.

Awkward was all Luther could describe it as. Meetings were never this silent and tense. Well, they were always tense for different reasons, usually because the passive aggression and anger that exuded from the room in heavy waves. This situation was quite the opposite. 

The meetings started with Five popping up randomly in a room with two or more people in it, making them grab the others or leaving them to play a rushed and confusing game of telephone, rambling out whatever was in that quick paced mind of his while calling them stupid and making confessions grandeur. Half hearted and confused replies and questions would be communicated his way, he would answer them or ignore it completely. Either 'I'm telling you this as a heads up in case anything bad happens in the next couple of days or hours' or 'I made this plan and I expect you all to follow it'.

Obviously, it never worked out well. Plans never ended up going as intended. Things were always done on the fly and haphazardly, he summed this up as their fighting style; never knowing what's coming next and attacking anything that wasn't one of their own. 

Maybe this time everything would work out now that the "bomb" was pulled into the plan? Vanya giving her input, altering the entirety of their usual order, having a familiar place to manage... everything would seem like a good situation; an ideal setting for a not so ideal start; although, the past memories of a place like the Academy was enough to ruin lives, as it seemingly had. 

Luther found the whole thing confusing and joyous and, and scary. Very scary. 

Scary that he might fall back in the way he was as a kid, an attitude was still in the efforts of stopping and altering. An attitude that told him this was love. All the pain he went through was beneficial; pain let him know it was all worth it; it wasn't working if he wasn't in pain. Praise was the best kind of medicine and striving, ripping himself, was a healthy action. Dealing with everything thrown his way was worth it if he was held in the soft lime light. Scared he might go back to the uncaring, unseeing person he used to be, still working on this one.

Not that he was totally scot-free from all the asshole-ish behavior of previous years, and... now, he was trying if that matters. In the past twelve or so hours, his eyes have really opened. (More like the past twelve hours had ripped his hands from in front of his eyes and forced them to see.) He wanted to improve, and if he was falling back into the 'Number One Way of Thinking', the bad ‘Number One Way of Thinking’, he was going to if given the chance.

Joyous to finally be in his usually comfortable space, but just seeing Dad made him want to be lost somewhere else that wasn't his own skin; it proved that he wouldn't be able to think of him the same. The routine of usual life was ruined now that he had finally opened his eyes to the tragic lives they were forced to live and endure there. Although, he knew what kind of person his father was and the way he felt about them. Knew how he would undoubtedly treat them would be his downfall. His fault for expecting so much from him. Wanting to expect the best from him was going to ruin him.

After going through the trials and tribulations of wanting a loving father the first time, Luther had learned quite a lot about Reginald Hargreeves. Knowing a general outline of all what was going to happen, like it had last time, Luther was sure that he could overcome it. Reality would have to push through all of the false dreams and high praise he held for the man. As well as look out for them all since he was the one that led them all down this rabbit hole. A rabbit hole filled with thorns and spiders and wannabe nuclear families. It was his role as Number One to do so from this standpoint. 

The actual role of Number One was divided between them all this past week. No longer were they small children that followed orders from him, ordered by their father, although begrudgingly.

Diego had enough leader capabilities to fill a room and was open to show if off. He had proven that with his vigilante work -- his brash, head first personality wouldn't fit into a blue uniform -- that he was willing to put his life at risk to protect the people, even though he also put the people, the criminals, near close to needing a body bag depending on crime. 

Standing by his morals without wanting to hold them back, in a professional setting and otherwise, was enough of a tell that Luther was surprised Diego was willing to even attempt. Saying this, Luther had always envied this trait in his brother. Able to stand his ground without caring about what anybody else had to say about it.

Allison and Klaus had enough presence to lead the masses, not counting anything power related, just their personalities were enough. The confidence. And... their looks helped as well, but it was mostly their persuasive ways of talking like they were talking directly to you and about your situation; they made you feel special apart from everybody else. Like in a room full of rare and precious diamonds, they picked you, a lowly pebble, for some reason. No intricate design, smooth feel, or nice color. Only being picked because they thought you worthy of it. As if they saw all you did and thought you deserved it the most. 

Five didn't really have the attitude of a leader. Luther saw him more as a "lone wolf" character than a "together" type. He knew what he wanted. Others would just hinder his plans and make things more complicated than they really had to be. It would be much faster if he was able to do this all himself. Five's mindset was quite obvious from what Luther had observed, not really observed, just noticed since Five didn't really hide those thoughts, was that Five would try to manage everything until he couldn't. 

Ben and Vanya didn't seem like the type to want to be the leader, to him at least. The stressful and busy lives they would have to lead to do so would probably make them a nervous wreck. Ever since they were kids, those two were known as the soft and silent type, enjoying their alone time without the brash nature of their other siblings. As they grew up, here now recently, they had grown into their own, from the little he had seen of the both of them which wasn't much considering the fact. Another perk of having another go round was the possibility of seeing his siblings as they truly were, and vice versa, instead of the characters he has thought them to be. 

“Yes, usually I would be all for this, but really let’s be honest with ourselves. Do we really have the time or resources to train Vanya," Five turned to Vanya gesturing to her, "-- who has a power purely emotion based with enough force to end everything we have ever known and more -- with the measly ranks in front of me.

“From my understandings of our “talents”, each one is different in ways they work and how to control them. Hargreeves's journal gave some insight on how all of us... tick, some more so than others, but insight none the less. For Allison, teaching her from a young age to be ruthless and lack empathy for the ones she was controlling was the main focus, as well as getting her to mean full heartedly what she rumored.

“Luther worked with strength building. Being able to carry whatever machinery or large portions for hours at a time. As well as restraint, to be able to "turn it off and on" at a moment's notice. Hargreeves' journal was rendered pathetic when it came to mind, something he tried to comprehend, but couldn’t get his mind around the real absolute fact of it all. Willing myself in and out of the fabrics of space and time, something I'm not even capable of teaching correctly, seeing that I inevitably will be pushed into nothingness, have nothing a comparison to Vanya's workings.

"All the years of keeping his powers at bay with drugs and booze, Klaus can't control whatever power he's supposed to have," a whined out 'hey' came from Klaus, halting Five's spiel, "with an exception of Ben in those few, few, instances." A noise of affirmation came from Klaus, wearing a look of pride. 

“The Horrors, whatever seems suitable, Ben,-"

"I've officially named them "Benticales" like two decades ago. If anyone is making a nickname stick, it's me. Oh, oh, oh, what about 'Jamin, like Ben's Ben and the tentacles are Jamin."

"at times have a mind of their own, detached from Ben's emotions and feelings. Saying this, they also correspond to Ben's mood, the radical feeling ones, such as anger and extreme happiness, but alas, no one but Ben himself is able to give the correct context on this. The "vast knowledge" of Hargreeves' journal be damned." Five took a couple glances over at Ben while talking, not wanting him to speak up, just taking a couple of looks. Little did Luther know, Five just wanted to take him all in without bringing unnecessary, unwanted attention. After not seeing him in the flesh for... a very long time, this was all he wanted for now. 

"Don't even try to tell me about MY OWN powers like you've done everybody else. Aren't we supposed to be talking about what Vanya wants, not a diagnostic of whatever little information you've gotten from the journal and wait. Did you read through all our files? Seriously, Five, boundaries. We don't go around pestering you about the fucked shit you've done throughout your long, long lifetime and your, your, wife. Such a dick thing to do, Five." Diego spat in the antagonistic way he does when he's serious about whatever he's fighting about. With Diego the argument can be about the most mundane of things and will still fight about it months later, bringing it up when it's been long forgotten by the other party. 

"But we don't have time for this, Luther has to leave soon and we need everyone here if we're making a game plan. Say your plan, Van."

Vanya stopped looking from talking person to talking person, the conversation was going quite quickly with everyone jutting into Five, and looked at the floor, away from all the staring eyes. Standing on her left, Allison reached her hand over and gave her a few reassuring squeezes, as well as a motherly smile usually reserved for Five this past week. His small size and stature would be to blame for that. As they grew up, the thought of Five stayed the same: a short, argumentative, quick witted boy, with a soft spot on his siblings. If they were going to do this all together, it's best he gets used to it. 

"I... don't want Dad's help, don't want him to know anything about it. I've seen how he was with all of you guys when we were younger and I don't want that. We don't know what's going to come next with any of this so having me stay on my pills wouldn't be smart, I think. If I ever came to a point where I didn't have any to my disposal, the outcome wouldn’t look good. I don't want to feel like that anymore, that helpless and destructive. 

"Maybe, using your free time away from doing Academy stuff, we can try to teach me how to do it correctly, or, or, just manageable without Dad noticing. I'm not... like... holding it in your guys' hands to figure all of this out for me since missions and training stuff. I just want like a draft, syllabus, of what I'm supposed to do, what to figure out." She played with Allison's hands as she spoke, Allison kept her soft smile. "If that's fine with you guys, I mean, you're all going to be busy and stuff."

"Sweetie, not busy enough to not help you." Allison replied to her.

"Yeah, we might have to deal with all the shit Hargreeves is going to throw at us, not like it's stuff we haven't done before. We can handle it, I know I can. Cool, Luther?"

"I can handle it, I wouldn't be Number One if I couldn't help benefit our team. What about you, Allison?"

"Anything for Vanya, she deserves it. Happy, Klaus?" 

"Hells yes, little Van Van needs our great expertise and will be absolutely wonderful with her powers, I bet. How about it, Fivey?"

"Of course, this will be quite interesting. Ben?"

"I'd love to be part of this experience with you all, for once. Ready, Vanya."

"Ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasn't noticeable by now, I'm really living for Allison&Vanya cute sibling stuff, i think their relationship in season 2 is adorable, wish there was more of it.
> 
> I piddle assed this chapter and yeah, it's short, next one will be a lot longer promise. Also out in less than a week, about five days. See ya then.


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> luther's meeting with Reginald and excess information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i havent edited this yet and I will in a few days, maybe tomorrow,,, so expect some bad grammar and some typos

Luther stood behind the office door, wondering whether he should go in or run away and hope to never be found. Start a new life somewhere with a father who loved him like he should, a normal life where he wasn’t super, just average. With average siblings, average parents, at an average school with average friends and average grades and average hobbies. Maybe a dog, a golden retriever named Max. Average. 

He knew that the latter wasn't a good idea, and definitely would make everything harder. He knew this; although, it sounded like a pretty good idea at the moment, a very good idea. On the walk over to his doomed fate, what he told himself in his mind, backtracking and chanting 'EVERYTHING IS FINE. ONLY FOR A STATUS REPORT' repeated on a loop and he tried to think of any meeting he had like this when he was younger. They all melted into each other and became identical. Damn his jumbled nerves. It's hard to think straight when you're certain you've been found out in a lie. This only being a trap.

Being so filled with anxiety and the pressure of fear pulled this away from every other experience he's ever had like this. Being the definition of naive was a considerably necessary trait at this time; he didn't think he would have lasted as long as he did if he had actually known the truth, example: the others, not as if he turned out any better. 

Without seeing all the bad, his father gave him the power of speaking without an apprehensive bone in his body; to stand firm for himself and for the team. It was one of the best acts he could do as "Number One". To be able to stand tall and speak with a collected poise aren’t exactly needed traits to lead, but more of a business practice. Keep a straight face in front of the boss, freak out your lunch break. 

The feeling that flooded any rational thought filled him fight or flight; even though, most likely this wasn't a big and bad thing. Knowing he's done something out of usual protocol and then to be called to the office was just... working him up more than usual. No longer was he a boy who would do anything for a small bit of praise. He was a scared man facing a troublesome past, enough he could consider it a nightmare. 

Calm down. Calm down, breathe in and out. He repeated the words Grace used to whisper to him in a lulling tone when life got too fast paced and vomit inducing. When the dinner parties got too constant, the hands on his shoulders squeezed a little too tight, and the nagging voice telling him off for even the thought of bothering anyone with his doubts got too loud. His arms weakened under the items he was meant to hold as his role of entertainment. The look he got when his face winced with a feeling of something unpleasant. Perfume and cologne filled his sinuses and wrapped around his throat. 

He had to push those memories away once he felt a stinging sensation in palms and blood under his fingernails. If it were anything big, he would have remembered it like he did most important stances in his life, as small as it may appear. Were they making a new appearance in a magazine or was one of his team caught showing too much of their private life to the public? What made this second time any different than the first? Come on, critical thinking. Stop being like this. 

"Come in." A strong voice came from inside the office, muffled by the door.

Luther's blood went cold and his body felt as if it were weighted down. Finding it hard to move, he willed himself to breathe and thought of a scenario to play as. It was just like helping Allison practice lines when they were younger -- more of... script writing than anything -- , and if you knew Allison, she needed "chemistry" not subpar, monotone acting. Just like that. Moving around her room, dressed in ridiculous clothing, usually wrapped her second best boa. Only this time, instead of love stories and tragic deaths, his role was an unnerved business man, who had his eyes on the prize, with the deception he hadn't anything to lose, that kept a fine and deep line between work and gratification.

The door creaked open with his hand slowly pushing the knob back, instantly getting an overwhelming wave of Eau D’Hadrien Annick. By the time, they had gotten back to the Academy for the funeral, the smell was quiet and washed out. Getting it in full effect just raised his nervousness even higher.

Reginald sat behind his desk, staring down the door and Luther when it was open enough for him to slip his body through. Eyes like a vulture stalking a sickly animal, just waiting for it to finally fall to its demise, he watched Luther quietly close the door. He knew if he was to turn around, they would meet eyes and the crumbling into himself would commence, noticeably. Every breath, every small movement, he was unable to stop thinking about it all. What if the way his chest rose, when attempting to get his breath back, was suspicious? Wouldn't he notice that? He notices everything!

The texture, the decorative cracks that ran shallowly throughout his desk, became his new fixation while he waited for their meeting to finally start, finally start since Reginald withheld spouting a mere word for an eternity -- realistically, at least five minutes -- long, too long to be hypervigilant over hearing the sound of his own breathe and the quiet inhaling and exhaling of his pipe, which was filling his nose with an awful, but familiar scent, burning the inside of his nostrils and stinging his eyes in the process. Feeling his eyes tear up was another thing to be hypervigilant about. 

He wondered if he focused enough, he could hear the sound of his siblings in another wing of the house. He knew he wouldn't be able to, but hopeful keeping kept his hopes up a tiny bit. Just to hear something calming, even if it was yelling and arguing, would still be better than this silence, whatever it was for. 

Actions he could've done were flying into his head. Of all the things he could've done at this age and instead kept secret, now being found out with whatever wrong he did this evening. Did the broken vase come to light? Luther thought he had hidden it quite well. It being his first time off the Umbrella Academy's grounds without the authorization of Reginald first. He had been a nervous wreck and only ended up a couple of blocks away, burying the shards at the base of a tree, sweating through his uniform the whole time. He only played 'fashion show' with Klaus and Allison a couple times and was mainly a spectator. Allison had limited supplies, but that wasn't important; it only happened five or so times... a month for a couple of years. It's not like he was a willing participant! He swears!

(The outs and ins of his childhood were twists and turns of how he treated his siblings, how he yearned for the praise of their father, how he would do anything to dampen that yearning. Pushing to forget and rejecting his 'unusual' likes became common. Seeing how Klaus was treated by him made him fearful of rejection, of being himself, of being an individual. Easier to follow orders and act as expected.)

His thoughts of worry must have been strong enough to float off into the open and write themselves into the air due to Reginald breaking the silence with a sigh. "Number One, do you have a clue as of why I called you in here today?" He said putting his pipe down and setting it on the desk beside him. The smoke slowly dissipated from the room. 

Silence visited once again and roared into the room. If he guessed the right thing, disappointment apparent when he supposedly knew what he was doing wrong and continued to do so -- enough that attention would be brought to it, Dad's attention -- knowing that it was going against what was preferred and planned for him. If he didn't guess the right thing, disappointment, once again, because he wasn't clever enough to realize he was failing and ruining his potential. There was no safe answer. Still, saying something was better than remaining silent, usually.

"I don't know, sir. I've been thinking it up and down all evening, and nothing has come up. I apologize." Clearing his voice before he spoke, his disposition changed into slightly perturbed to a faux confidence that did the job well enough his voice came out clear and hardy. All little slips and slight stutters were all underlined in red, bolded deep. Dad would notice.

Reginald didn't say anything and kept staring at Luther as if he was the most interesting thing in the world, looking up and down his body, making Luther feel very revealed, vulnerable. He was used to being stared at, well, before everything happened since he was a cumbersome guy in the first place, for his odd appearance, but he was small now! Insignificant, really! Sure, he was the tallest out of all the siblings, but Diego and Klaus weren't that far behind him.

Nothing was visually out of the order on his person to Luther, maybe that was the problem. Perhaps the way his sleeves bunched at the cuffs with raw scraps running up the seen skin of his arms. Or the way he was out of breath, like he had run a marathon. If not, maybe it was the sweat that dripped from his brow, with small dark spots appearing around the armpits of his blazer. 

None of this mattered, it wasn't the problem. "I don't appreciate baseless apologies, Number One. I expected that you would've brought this to me first; instead of bringing this mindless behavior to Number Three, attempting to conceal your mistake idiotically. Failing the elementary task of keeping yourself in control is pitiful. You managed to rip the door off its hinges, Number One, something you haven't managed to "achieve" since you were first training. 

"You have proved that you can't be trusted with your own progress, let alone keep it at a halt. Thus, your personal training will be not only altered in length, further in weight, extensiveness, and increased until I deem it unnecessary. From my findings, you will need to push yourself to the limits, Number One. You will won't you. You owe it to me. To the Academy. What's your usefulness if you're unable to control yourself in a mundane setting? 

"How else would you benefit your team if you can't be of use to them due to your negligence? If one of them would be injured on your watch, the fault would fall onto you, not only as a leader, but as the cause. Does Number Three deserve to have her life on the line because you don't care enough about her personal safety? I would refer to the others; although, we both know she's held with sentimental value. On a pedestal compared to the others. Answer me, Number One." He spoke slowly and cut clearly, down to the bone.

"None of them deserve that, sir. My insolence to be the downfall of our team... would be...." He found it a hassle to find the words to convey all he felt. "Sir, I-I never, never meant to keep in from you, I didn't think of it as an importance that would hinder the group as of now. You're always so busy, sir, and I didn't want to interrupt important work with a small accident. It was just a slight hiccup on my part, nothing to do with anyone, but myself, I agree. It would be quite unfavorable and a pitiful act, as leader, if I were to... bring us down. The term and role as "leader" would be something I don't deserve.

"I will work whenever you want, and as strenuous as I can. Without having control of my power, I am of no use to the Academy. I am no use to the Academy weak, sir."

"Of course, you will. If I said run, you'd go blindly without direction. If I said stop breathing, you would. If I said kill, you would. Remember, Number One, there was no such thing as a fair fight. All vulnerabilities must, and will, be exploited. Including yours, such as Number Three, the sneaking around, a bond you don't have with any of the others. One day, that weakness -- one day soon -- will be your downfall. Hmm, I wonder when the ball should drop, when I should push it off it's ledge.

"Enough small talk. I will see you at six am sharp, at my office. Too many hindrances to lead you off the initial goal, and we wouldn't want that. I advise you to sleep well tonight, you'll need it." He finished, stayed quiet, signaling the conversation was over. 

~

Throughout the night, Luther tossed and turned in his bed -- something that was a constant, common occurrence in his teen and adult life, from stress and bad dreams --. The bed was the perfect size and fit, it was still like he could feel himself falling out of it. Curling in around himself wasn't helping like it usually did. Every time he found himself inching closer and closer towards sleep scenes of earlier that day replayed in his mind.

You have proven you can't be trusted.... Useless.... I am of no use to the Academy weak. I am of no use to the Academy. I am of no use.

These thoughts ran around his mind in a jumbled swirl, another reason he couldn't sleep. He shouldn't sleep, he needs to be prepared for tomorrow. He has been training by himself, but what if Dad expects more from him and he can't reach that goal? 

But sleep would refresh and energize him in the morning? That would sound nice and plausible if he was actually able to sleep without a working himself into a fervor -- training until his body shakes with every step, each movement sending lightning shocks through his body -- dosed with a several milligrams of Melatonin -- his body size behemoth, it took a couple trial runs to see what dosage would work for him, most nights a handful. (It seemed like nothing could cure him of his aches in pain unless he took an "overdosed" size for the average person, buying bottle after bottle made him suspicious looking, more suspicious looking, to the clerk and asking Grace meant asking Dad and that never really went well.)

The bed creaked under his body as he listlessly rose from his bed, as if he were possessed by something otherworldly taking control of a warm body for the first time, stopping every few movements hoping his restlessness wouldn't get him in trouble. Late night creaks were unusually loud and patronizing. He felt as if they were calling out down the hall to the end, echoing through the other wing, alerting Reginald of his deeds. Screaming "HE'S UP, HE'S DOING WHAT YOU THOUGHT HE WOULD, AT LEAST WHAT HE THINKS YOU THOUGHT HE WOULD. PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. FORGIVE HIS TIRED SOUL." Complete nonsense, though the creaking screams of forgiveness made him feel a bit better. A bit better that he would be forgiven. By who? He didn't know. 

Uncertain of his decision, he stood near his bed not doing much of anything. Luther wasn't sure of how he would describe his state of being. Every time he tried to think of something sensible, speaking it aloud only made him sound crazy -- not that he spoke them aloud to others, but himself when he knew he was all alone -- and didn't think Grace would understand a feeling he couldn't explain. He knew she felt things, she must feel things, right? How else would she have raised them without feeling anything... motherly? To be a mother you have to be caring and patient, and it felt like she was just that. Though, she could have been programmed to be. And are programmed feelings actual feelings? He feels like Five would know, or Ben. Ben would know, he knows everything. Waking them up doesn't sound like a... sound choice, right now at least. 

He felt like mashed potatoes, all ground up and stuck wherever he was scooped out to be. Pushed together by the hands of his maker to be a perfect little circle. A circle that overtime would slowly droop at the edges until all of him fell apart in a mess, to be discarded as he wasn't perfect anymore and the sight of him turned the stomachs of those around him. 

Oftentimes in situations where he was well over his head, and knew he couldn't handle the situation until he was of clean mind, he strung poems together in his mind. Rhyming until words lost meaning, until his brain went to mush and reformed itself into a stable mind. It had become a passion of Luther's over the years when he had no one else to turn to. You couldn't win or lose when writing, he didn't think it worked like that and if it did he wasn't participating in that foot race.

“Sitting in my stool; high above the others, but far below them, I watch as they interact, react, to the world around them. It’s hard to say that I understand them for I hardly know them, I find it hard to know them for I don't understand them. The settings around me seem uninteresting, but I yearn to know them, to be them, to feel what they feel, to see what they see. To think, what my life would be like if I were them. If I would walk around in their skin, feel their personalized aches and pains, heartaches and heartbreaks. If I could stand in their socks and shoes and see myself from a shorter grasp. If I could stand tall and poise, but stern and unfazed. Oh, if I could be a building.”

It was one of the poems he had written in his younger years, when everyone had bidden him ‘adieu’ and sent him to the moon. He could recite it word for word. Sometimes changing a phrase or two, maybe rewriting a couple of sentences depending on that day's feeling, but it always kept the same thought.

Luther slowly opened his door and tiptoed all the way to the training room, empty as can be, passing door after door, holding his breath until he knew he was past his siblings. With every odd noise, his breath caught in his throat. He’d cover his mouth with his hand, his small, small hand, forcing the coughing down. His body moved on auto pilot down the halls, weaving down the stairs, until he finally reached the door he was looking for. The heavy metal doors. Doors made to be near impossible to break, just in case. 

He slowly made his way around the workout room, sweat dripping from his forehead and soaking his sleep shirt -- the thought of changing into appropriate clothing hadn’t crossed his mind. Soon his pale blue pajama set would be seeping with sweat and sticking to his skin. Saturated in honey. Luther’s skin itched. Unbeknownst to him, a rash was forming on his arms and legs. He didn’t notice. 

~

Sat in the back seat, staring out at the passing cars, Luther let his mind wander to whatever training ideas his father might have while in the “Correction Building”. The Correction Building was a low-level structure, placed smack dab on the edge of Long Island, reserved for when the punishment was bigger and more than what they had at the Academy. 

When he was younger, the building had made him feel important and special. A building was designed and constructed with the thought of him in mind, for crying-out-loud! How could he not feel that way? Knowing that he was set apart from his siblings and regarded with a higher caliber than them, so high that he needed his own building. 

It didn’t imagine it to look quite like his when Dad told him about it one evening, He really hoped that he would’ve been treated with a space theme, y’know, the light fixtures having paper mache stars around them with planets hanging from the ceiling. Each room being named and themed after Jupiter’s moons, personally wanting Callisto, soft dark blue carpeting in the living areas. Grace visiting him in the evenings to give him updates on the kids and how they’re fairing without him. Pogo coming in every few days to give him the rundown of the lesson, not that he needed it, just wanting to see him every so often. 

The glamour wore out pretty quickly after being in the building once every week or every other week, walking out with his body protesting, only to go back home and have to deal with the same things. The building, just for him!, wasn't at all as he would have imagined. It lacked windows, he wouldn’t be able to talk to the moon and hang near out the window to be a little closer to the stars at night. He wouldn’t be able to hear the birds at play and whistle to the tune while working. Or see the sunrise, or know when Dad was actually here to watch him.

During these times, he never actually saw his father, or anybody pleasant for that matter. Only the flocks of business men that would come through the doors every so often, talking among themselves quietly, clipboards in hand, writing little notes, asking him questions, and making him very uncomfortable. 

The room was ginormous in size, holding everything he would need, as well as a giant monitor that showed various angles of the room, all on him. The security cameras moving with his being. Every hour on the hour, he would be reminded what he had done to deserve this when his father’s shouts, at top volume, could be heard over the speakers, sometimes on a loop. Or how much fun the others were having without him, or “verbatim” conversations they were having about their “new found freedom”. It was the only thing he would hear besides himself and the moving of machinery. 

By the end of the week, the usual measurement for punishment, Luther would come home to Academy, thanking his father for regarding him suitable enough for home and harping on his siblings for the smallest mistakes. He hadn’t dreaded training this much and it only simmered from there.

Training used to put him in a calming state. With his focus on one thing, his body being worked out to such a degree that he was running on autopilot, all his worries went out the window, until he had to stop for dinner. No thinking needed to be involved, just moving and straining himself. Humming to the same old Tiffany song until the lyrics ran together. Tired enough that as soon as he got out of the shower and had a full stomach of food, he was out like a light, usually. Being in the Correction Building was very different from that. It didn’t fill him with such tranquility as the other had. Very much the opposite. 

All eyes were on him, usually Reginald’s “business associates” would watch him “at work”, showing off to his clientele that his business venture had actually worked? He couldn’t help but feel self conscious and the feeling of being under a microscope reigned. All his insecurities and fears were on the table, open for all those strangers to see. He’d rather it just be Reginald, even if he would yell at him.

Not only was it training, but it was also work, just a solo mission. Instead of bomb defusal and getting the hostages out safely, it’s making sure you're working at one hundred percent perfection and treating his “friends” as guests, not like the intruders they were. It’s harder than it seemed: keeping light hearted conversation running up while pushing your body to it’s absolute limits. 

He knew all previous tasks won’t color in comparison to whatever was planned for him; he had never seen him so mad before, mad and directed his way. Maybe staying up wasn’t such a good idea? If Luther underperforms, it will seem as if he’s acting out and not trying as hard as an act of rebellion when it’s the complete opposite. Luther worked until his body ached and worked even harder to show him that he’s willing to do as he’s told for him. Showing his pure allegiance. For the benefit of the group, of course. Not for his beneficial gain, he has nothing he can get from Reginald that he’d actually need at the end of the day -- to help complete the mission at hand. 

Nothing good could come from the Correction Building, it never had. Many weeks had been spent training, only training, until he was deemed good enough to go home. He thought maybe Grace or even Pogo would be able to visit him and help him with his schooling, that had been abandoned as soon as he walked into the building, but not even that. His father’s face would be the only glimpse of life in those times. Back then, the blame automatically pushed itself onto him that if he hadn’t done something wrong -- usual actions that upset his father just because -- he wouldn’t hurt this much. 

The time he spent away from his siblings was his fault. If he worked a little harder on the mission, Diego wouldn’t have gotten hurt. A leader is at fault for all the mistakes and failure their team is made up of. That hostage wouldn’t have gotten her brains blown out if he had been a little quicker with the diffusal team. Dad’s business partner would have held firm if he had shown his enough courtesy. 

Number One, this is not about your “comfort”. We need this don’t you see? Putting on airs will only ruin your credibility as a leader. If my associates don’t think you, the representative for the Academy, can get down on all fours and do whatever it takes to please them, what does it say about the rest of the team? They're too prissy to do what needs to be done for the sake of the bigger picture? Too scared to get their hands dirty when lives are on the line? Think, Number One, before you get us all killed. 

This time was really his fault, he tried to push this away. You’re supposed to be able to make small mistakes without being hurt. As extraordinary as Reginald wanted him, all of them, to be, they were painfully human with no way to erase human error. Frantic thinking only made everything worse. He’d try and remember this for next time. There would always be a next time.

Pulling into the driveway, Luther looked around outside the car window wanting to bask in the little shrubbage and sky in his view before being shut away. A couple of birds flying in formation with a few stragglers trying to catch up. The white rocks framing the crisp and green bushes across the street. A few trees with dying limbs. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but was getting there turning the sky a dark, medium blue. 

Luther received no order to get out of the car, only a curt glance before Reginald opened his door and began walking to the opening, Luther not that far behind him. The dirty brown sidings looked as they always did: grim. Perhaps, they looked grim to him due to the memories made here. He turned around before he actually walked in, hoping that it was sunny and beautiful when he returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might add a short interlude in the next chapter, i don't think i'll make it a whole chapter. if i do i'll double post if i don't think it is really important to luther's whole deal. if written, it will be in the umbrella academy minus luther's pov about everything. i might speed everything along since i feel like it's going to slow, but some people like that? detail I guess? things not feeling too forced? sorry if my writing style is shit lol


	6. chapther six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where the chapter's really short and in allison's point of view

He had been gone for around six days when Allison started to get worried, really worried. Worried enough that her every rasped word and quickly scribbled sentence pertained to the whereabouts of Luther and the suspicion of the circumstances of his “disappearance”. Disappearance was the only word that felt right when talking about it; they had no information on why he had left and how long he had been gone. Dad had been home regularly for the first couple of days until he vanished, leaving Pogo in charge of them. Before he had left, Luther had more than hesitant towards them all, she could see now. Did it have anything to do with the reason he was gone? 

Dad wouldn’t even speak a word about Luther, only seeming oddly giddy -- as giddy as someone like Reginald could appear -- and curt. He didn’t owe them a reason. Out of all the things her father has done to them during their lifetime, one of the tops on the list has to be the way he made her feel as if she wasn’t worthy of an explanation. She wasn’t enough to be talked to and damnit, she was worthy. Worthy from her head down to her toes, she just couldn’t help but feel small looking up at him. 

These questions were festering in her mind and became the only things she could think about for the moment. The others had dismissed her: Five said it didn’t seem out of the ordinary and Luther was a “big boy” who could handle himself. It was only training, how hard could it be? Diego veered off into tangent how training was the usual and why was she taking it and making it a bigger deal than it was. Of course, she would mother anything in sight. First Five and now Luther. Diego said he’d better watch out before she starts confiscating his knives. He’s such a dick, but he didn’t matter right now. 

Luther never seemed worried to meet Dad, even when they had messed up. He still bounced in his chair, waiting for the moment he could speak to Dad by himself. “Father-Son Bonding Time”. Usually his training lasted an afternoon, maybe a day or so if he needed something to work on, but never six days. Never six days and eight hours. Six days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes. Why was he acting like that before he left? 

She could tell the whole Vanya fiasco had hit him hard, never thought to that extent. She was worrying too much (it had become a habit as soon as she had Clare of becoming the “Mom” anything with her different groups added to her habit of wanting to take charge of every situation, she’s had since she was a kid), Five was right. It was just training. It couldn’t be that bad. That doesn’t mean she’ll stop worrying until he shows back up.

As close as she and Luther were as children, he never disclosed her training in a descriptive manner. Always saying ‘the usual’ and ‘just lifting’ as if he wouldn’t spend hours disinfecting his arms and taping himself up when the others were away, something only she and Grace were allowed to see. As if his arms didn’t shake when eating or walking slowly for his legs were nearly close to giving out. Everything was always ‘the usual’ and ‘not that bad’. How ‘not that bad’ was everything? He always had a way of downplaying the problems in his life, the hurricanes were slight showers and cloudy skies, his injuries were only paper cuts. No wonder they never learned about the accident until years after it had happened, and hidden once they had come together again. 

While he was gone, they had all had a ‘feelings jam’ as Klaus put it and talked out all the traumatic shit they were going through -- well, as much as you were going to get from them -- and achievements they hadn’t been able to tell them from years ago. Klaus had been sober of anything, besides ciggies, way better than what if had been so she couldn’t scold too much, and had been practicing with his powers. A ceremonial trek to Griddy’s was established opposed to Klaus’ “how about a drink, they’ll be on me”, earning sharp looks all around the board. (She knew it was a joke, this time he actually wanted to get better. It’s hard to help someone who didn’t want help, this time is different.) Her heart poured out of her eyes once she heard about Vietnam and “beautiful, beautiful Dave”. He was the push Klaus needed and now he couldn’t even have that. She put it in the back of her mind to ask Five later if they could help with that once, y’know, everything is done and over with. 

Five talked quietly about growing up in the apocalypse, and it gave serious insight for how he acted like he did. Touching was an iffy subject, she learned he associated it with fighting for his life. After how many ever decades of being the only human on the planet, accompanied with Delores, the only contact he encountered was during missions that ended with dead bodies and a blood covered Five, and the way The Handler couldn’t seem to take her hands off of him. (Chills went down her spine as he talked.) Allison couldn’t help but start to see Delores as a person with the way Five described her: a fun loving, but stern woman who wasn’t afraid to let her hair down and put him in his place. As long as it didn’t hurt Five, she wouldn’t act or let the other act upon anything to do with separating them. Delores was Five’s and Five was Delores’. 

Diego talked about his ups and downs in the academy. His inferiority complex couldn’t keep itself straight enough for him to work justly. Justly as in, not killing, or near to it, the criminals who deserved it. It wasn’t the way they rolled. Petty crimes were petty crimes, they all knew it, but if lives were on the line one dead guy wasn’t going to harm anyone. But rapists and killers? “Those fuckers deserve all they got. Sure, they couldn’t prove it was me, but perfect cut wounds and a lack of evidence pointed it straight to me. The only thing they could do was give me the boot.” Patch’s murder had pushed him into a corner of rage and sadness, something that apparently went hand in hand together when came to him. When he felt something, he felt it all at once and couldn’t control what happened next. From all the fights he and Luther had as children, that part she knew. Being considered second best didn’t help with any of these things: friends were hard to make when they weren’t related to you and knew how you ticked. 

It was as if he were looking through a two sided mirror, he could see them and not the other way around. The last week or so had been exhilarating and painful and overwhelming for Ben. His body seemed to seize up and make his scratch as his hands or whatever body part touched something a little too soft or too cold or too rough. The cold always reminded him of before this; so, he was always wrapped in Klaus’s oversized coats and jackets. After this insight came up, Ben would wake up covered in extra blankets and pillows feeling comfortably warm. He seemed to gravitate to them all with exchanges of light touches or hand holding, being so close you could feel the heat come off the other person. Allison made a note that she needed to slowly condition them to closeness, skin-to-skin contact. 

Poor baby Vanya recounted how lonely life had felt, in and out of the academy. She hadn’t learned how to get comfortable enough to make relations with anyone, always deeming herself an outcast. It was hard for her to pursue university and orchestra with thoughts of failure coming to her mind. All she was was ordinary before she realized everyone was too. This didn’t make life harder or better. 

The reason she had clung to whatever that fucking guy’s actual name was because he was the first person to take notice of her and not get bored of her after five minutes. He didn’t care she was ordinary like everyone else and had shitty conversational skills, he liked her for her, or so she thought. There were more than a few rounds of telling her she was extraordinary far more than the rest of them and that if (he) could go back, he would have been the one to kill him. 

Allison had felt her heart gravitate to each of them, never knowing how bad their lives had truly been. It was expected that it would be a crock of shit, just not this extent. She can’t help but regret running off all those years ago. If only she had kept in touch.

Luther had been gone for eight days when the others had begun to feel something wasn’t right with their “oldest” brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have a mostly complete vision for this story so it won't be having weird updates schedules any more, I'm almost done with the next chapter so it should come out either the end of this week or the beginning of next,

**Author's Note:**

> ,,, im not gonna make diego stutter the whole time cause fuuckk im not doing that. :0  
> tumblr @plazahouse :)


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